Tangled Together
by LauraRaptor
Summary: Keeping in tone and story of the show, Jughead has found himself without a steady home. In helping Veronica discover just what her mother is up to, Jughead finds himself invited to stay in the Lodge penthouse. Can he uncover the secrets of Riverdale while trying to ignore what's growing between he and Veronica? Told in 1st person perspective from Jughead's POV
1. Chapter 1

My heavy pack slides down my arm as I march down the street and away from Pop's. The air is getting colder as summer fades into fall and I'm going to need someplace to sleep that has a real roof over it, and I'm going to need it soon.

But that's not where my mind is focused. My own comfort isn't as important as the truth, and there are too many lies hanging over our quiet town of Riverdale. Thinking of creature comforts is a distraction I do not have time for. I've stumbled into open beds before, and I will again. Something will come along, and until it does, I'll make due with Pop's waning generosity.

I can't leave my stuff at Pop's while I'm not there. Too many sticky fingers. Like I said, Pop's generosity. Leads to less than stellar people finding employment there when no one else will have them. Normally my pack doesn't bother me. It's my lifeline, my whole world stuffed in one oversized bag. Now though, now it's a liability. Too recognizable, too heavy for where I'm going.

Whatever is happening in Riverdale is bigger than me. It's bigger than Jason Blossom getting shot in his pretty face. It's bigger than the mess my own father has gotten into. Keller's dad is useless, too busy chasing his own tail at the request of the town's rich and powerful to actually get to the bottom of some crime.

I'd been hoping to get a look at his files, whatever of them that Keller had managed to get put together, but Kevin had quashed that dream when he relayed that their home had been ransacked. Important information was stolen, things that prying eyes like my own would love to get ahold of. It leaves me wondering who might be the one, or ones, who were brazen enough to break into a police officer's home. My father's cronies, for one. That's the easy answer. With everything else going on though, well, the answer is a lot more murky.

The Keller residence isn't my destination, though. Not tonight, at least. Too many people with too many eyes watching it. With all eyes on the home of Riverdale's premier officer, there are none looking at other more... plum rewards.

Veronica is the one who tipped me off. She doesn't know my connection to the Southside Serpents, not to my knowledge at least. So when she pulled me aside in the halls of our shared high school to ask for my help, I'd like to believe that it was because of my investigative skills, not my familial connection to her little crisis.

We're set to meet in the park at exactly eleven o'five. The stars are out above me, but the moon is new and barely a thin slice carved out of the sky. Dressed all in black, I'm no more than a shadow as I march through the park, yet my pack leaves me feeling exposed. I need to hide it somewhere.

With little other choice, I hide it in the bushes that edge the park. With little light, it should stay relatively invisible. As long as we are no more than half an hour, I think I'll be okay with leaving it there.

In the one flickering light that hangs from the gazebo, I see my target and approach, but she's not alone as I'd expected. Beside Veronica was the recognizable blonde ponytail of Betty Cooper. In the past few days, or maybe it was weeks now, the two of them had become inseparable. One was rarely seen without the other, and I mentally chastise myself for forgetting that detail.

"Hey Jughead," Betty greets me. She's dressed in black, and her arms are folded over her chest. Nervously, she chews her lower lip while she watches me approach.

"You're late," Veronica chastises. Next to Betty, the ever innocent Betty, Veronica always appears to be so much more... experienced.

"You're early," I correct her. "And Betty, I hope you have a hat."

Betty's hand reflexively shoots to her ponytail. "No?" she questions. "Why?"

"Your hair stands out too much," I inform her. " And here I'd heard tales of a black wig in your possession."

Even in the low yellow flicker, I see Betty's cheeks flush pink. She has a hidden streak in her, but has spent so much time repressing it that she easily reverts to the innocent mask that the Cooper women are known for. I'd like to see more of Betty's devilish streak, and maybe tonight was the night I would.

"Here," Veronica says as she pulls out another hat from her impossibly small, obviously designer, handbag.

Betty obediently pulls on the hat and tucks her blonde hair up under it. Much better, much more hidden.

"Okay, so are you going to tell us why we snuck out in the middle of the night?" Betty asks Veronica. Betty still doesn't know I was couch surfing, it seems.

"I heard my mom on the phone this morning," Veronica informs us both. "I've seen her a few times with some biker and I've got a bad feeling about it. She agreed to meet someone in front of city hall tonight at midnight. Whoever it is, they've got something on her, I'm sure of it, and I think it's that's biker."

"Do you think it's -" Betty goes to ask, and I know what she's going to finish with. "Your dad?" is the obvious answer, but I don't want our relationship acknowledged. Not with whatever that man is up to.

"Wouldn't surprise me," I answer before she can finish. "And it wouldn't be the first time."

"So what do we do?" Betty asks. Her eyes flick between me and Veronica.

"We wait for Archie-kins," Veronica purrs.

Frustrations bubbles up inside of me. "You told Archie about this?" I ask. "Did you tell Keller and Reggie and Ethel for that matter?"

"Of course not," Veronica bites back. "But we need bodies to cover the door and I get the feeling that Archie feels a little low these days, with Grundy and all."

I want to argue with her some more. I want to tell her the more bodies running around, the more likely one of them will get seen. I don't get the chance. Archie is taking long strides across the park, headed right toward us. Letterman jacket on his back, faded blue jeans below. If the moon were out, he'd practically glow.

"Hey," Archie greets us. The awkwardness between us hasn't had time to mend, and Jason's death, Grundy's revelations, and everything else that's happened, haven't helped matters. The meeting of our eyes confirms this. Archie's hit mine and immediately, awkwardly dart away.

"Okay, gang's all here," Veronica commands. I get the distinct impression she's used to commanding an army, whether it be a group of snoops here, or a gaggle of Fifth Avenue socialites in Manhattan. "Archie-kins and I will take the front door to the left of city hall," she explains. "Jughead and Betty, you take the right." There would be no arguing.

Reluctantly, Betty slips away from her best friend, and possibly other former best friend, and comes with me as our little group splits apart. I'm not privy to the details of Archie's life like I once was, but I have the awareness to know that something is going on between Betty and he. What used to be a happy trio is now splintered and distance.

Better says nothing as I lead her toward where we are going to hide. A tall hedge, with a once modern architectural design piece jutting out enough to hide our location. The same is mirrored on the left side of the building, which is exactly where I expect Archie and Veronica to be hiding.

Being stuck with me has Betty moping, but she does has best to hide it. I know it's not because she want to spend time with me, something I'm happy we've been doing more since she rebranded the Blue and Gold. Really, we should be working together, get our stories right for the expose we will one day write.

No, it's because she pines for Andrews that she is pouting, ever so slightly, as we duck behind the perfectly trimmed hedge. As kids, we played around here and hid in these very hedges during hide and seek. Back when life was simple, when I'd run home to my mom, dad, and Jellybean after a long day of playing with my friends.

Those days are gone. I can only look forward.

"Betty, I..." I move to say, but before the words come out, the sound of rumbling engines fills the air. What I was going to say to her, well, not even I am sure of that. Something comforting? Something encouraging? Something... else? I don't know.

Instead of whatever it is I was going to say, we duck down deeper into the bushes and peer out at the bikes roaring up in front of town hall. From across the street, the striking figure of Hermione Lodge approaches, five in heels and all. Just like suspected, Mrs. Lodge and my father have further dealings together.

Great.

We're hiding barely fifteen feet away, but over the roar of the bikes, we hear nothing. We can only watch and wait as Hermione hands something to my father, and then together they enter the front doors of town hall together, leaving two leather clad sentries in their wake.

"What are they doing?" Betty hisses at me, but her guess is as good as mine. All I know is that it can't be good.

"Wait here," I whisper back at her. It's not the first time I've had to duck away from my father's cronies. As long as she stays hidden, she'll be safe.

Skirting the hedges, I weave my way along the building until I get to the back. Out of the street lights, out of view, I find what I'm looking for. In some of my more delinquent moments, I found my way back here when I needed a place to crash. Lucky for me then - and now - the janitor has a bit of pot habit and a forgetful brain. This leads to an unlocked window that's just large enough for me to slip through when the need arises.

Like I said, I always find a place.

Once inside, I slip the window closed and it muffles all outside sounds, even the low rumble of the bikes outside. The whole building is as quiet as a morgue at midnight, save for the clack clack clack of Hermione's heels on the tile floors.

"What are you up to?" I let myself whisper as I duck through the dark halls of the building.

"I could ask you the same thing?" a voice replies through the darkness.

My blood runs ice cold, but I don't let it freeze me. I'm not alone, Josie McCoy, whenever she was hiding, is right in front of me, but the building isn't empty.

Darting forward, I grab her and slap my hand over her mouth before she can say more and give us away. She fights against me and I whisper, "We aren't alone. The Snakes are here," into her ear.

That stills her. I loosen my grip and then let her go when she doesn't shout. With a flick of my hand, I gesture for her to follow me.

Josie, despite being the most take charge person I've ever met - even more than Veronica - follows me. Her eyes question me, but she keeps her mouth shut as we sneak around.

Finally, voices grow louder. My father, whatever he's up to, is barking at Hermione to hurry up from within Mayor McCoy's office. In exchange, Veronica's mother is hissing at him to keep his voice down. Josie and I stoop down by the door to listen for more, careful to keep very quiet.

"My guys will take care of any unwanted guests," my father tells her. "Just find it. Now."

"Stop yelling at me and this will go faster," she replies. Obviously a big mistake, but the wicked slap I expect to hear never happens. Not yet, at least.

Josie and I wait in tense silence, waiting for them to reveal just what 'It' is, but they never do. With a, "Finally," Hermione calls to my father. "Here, I've got it."

"Good," dear ol' dad says. "Put it somewhere safe until I need it, got that?"

"I'm not an idiot," Hermione hisses back at him.

"Are you sure about that?" he laughs at her. "Now let's get out of here. Being seen with you is bound to ruin my good name."

Josie and I scramble away from the door and around the corner just in time for it to open. The clacking of Hermione's heels fills my ears as they head for the front door of the building. I'm holding my breath, and from the silence beside me, I'm sure Josie is too.

It isn't until the motorcycles roar back to life that I finally let myself breathe again. My hands, clenched in tight fists, begin to relax and I look at Josie.

"What the hell was that about?" she nearly screams at me. "What was your dirtbag father doing in my mother's office?"

"I don't know!" I snap back at her. "I was trying to find out. I -"

Before I can yell again, the front door swings open with a bang. I freeze, but a different Lodge's voice calls out.

"Jughead?" Veronica calls.

Betty's voice joins her. "Are you okay?"

"We're fine," I assure them as Veronica and Betty march up to where I, and Josie, reveal ourselves from. Archie is pulling up the rear of their trio.

"What is this?" Josie growls at us all.

"Put the claws away, kitty cat," Veronica scolds her. I've never heard someone stand up to Josie like that. I can't deny I'm impressed. "We're trying to figure out just why my mother is dealing dirty with some biker."

"Some biker?" Josie mocks. "You mean Jughead's dad?"

This revelation catches Veronica off guard for a second, but with a blink of her large, determined eyes, she recovers.

"It doesn't matter who he's related to," Veronica pushes back. "He's up to something and has my mother involved. The fact that they were in your mother's office makes me think that the mayor is involved, too."

"Involved?" Josie sneers. "I think not. They were breaking and entering. I should call the cops on your mother's embezzling ass."

"Go for it," Veronica calls her bluff. "Call the cops. Let's see what Keller does when he undoubtedly finds dirt on your mom. Then you can enjoy the same whispers and gossip that I do."

Josie's eyes narrowed, but then she relaxed some. "Whatever. I'll catch your mom before Keller gets a chance."

"Good luck with that," Veronica purrs back at her new adversary. "I'm up for a challenge, no matter how small."

Josie's eyes narrow more, but she knows better than to continue. Not that she's in the wrong, she knows she's not and so does Veronica. But Veronica isn't wrong either. The mayor had something that Lodge wants, which can't be good for either of them.

With one final stare down, Josie marches her way out of the building. No one says a word, but we give her a minute head start before we make our own exit.

"What now?" Archie asks. He's concerned, but eager too.

"I say we go home," Veronica sighs. "What else can we do? Go march into some biker bar and demand that they tell us what's going on? As nice as that sounds, I don't feel like getting shot tonight."

Archie looks ready to argue, always a shining knight, but Betty stops him.

"Come on, Archie, let's just go home," she says as she pulls off her borrowed hat.

A protest is still burning on Archie's lips, but he lets Betty lead him away from where Veronica and I are standing. I need to get my bag, and without a word, I walk away from Veronica.

"Hey," she says as she follows me. "You never told me your dad was in that gang."

"It never came up," is all I offer as I find my stuff. Thankfully, it appears to be undisturbed.

"Now it has," she tells me. "Let's go back to your place and confront him."

"Yeah, that won't work," I say as I sling my bag over my shoulder. "Dad and I aren't exactly on speaking terms. Or living together terms."

Veronica stares at me, and then realizes what I'm saying. "Wait," she stops me before I can walk away again. "So where are you living right now?"

"Here and there," I say as I try to pull away from her.

"Are you telling me you're what, couchsurfing?" she asks. "The streets? What?"

"It doesn't matter," I snap at her. "Besides, whatever they were after, your mother took it and has plans to hide it."

"Well then," Veronica says as her perfect back straightens. "That means you need to help me find it."

"Sure, later," I dismiss her.

"No, now," she says. "I need your help. And if you're dad is involved, something tells me you need mine, too. You're going to help me figure out what they're doing, and where better to do that than at my place."

"Veronica?" I question her.

"We have more space than I know what to do with," she tells me. "And my mother is never home. Smithers isn't the greatest company, and I can't exactly ask him to help spy on my mother. Stay with me, and we can help each other out."

I'm not exactly sure what to say. Charity is something I've never wanted, but I'm not sure what this is. She does need my help. That's why she asked me to be here tonight. But staying at the Lodge penthouse? What would my father say?

He'd probably be furious.

"Deal," I tell her, and extend my hand to shake it. "But only until we get to the bottom of this."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Veronica says as she shakes my hand. "Now come on, I'm already going to be on a deficit on my beauty sleep."

In my wildest dreams, I would have never imagined I'd end up staying at Veronica Lodge's, but it was only the tip of the iceberg of what was to come.


	2. Chapter 2

Regret. I'm already regretting that I've agreed with what Veronica has proposed. The son of Riverdale's notorious criminal finding his way to the penthouse of its new Queen Bee. To anyone looking in, it would be cause for scandal - or jealousy. But to Veronica, it was just a new source of amusement.

I'm not exactly sure why I agreed to it. Perhaps the pumping adrenaline from breaking into city hall in the middle of the night? The opportunity to discover just what the Lodge's are hiding? Or maybe I just want to screw over my father. Whatever it is, I'm not sure living with Veronica is the best way to go about it.

But she is insistent, even as my regret becomes more obvious. By time we arrive at the steps of her penthouse, I'm literally dragging my heels as she drags me along by the sleeve of my jacket.

"Oh Juggy," she laughs as she leads me up the steps. "You'll love it here, and how better to find out just what our respective parental units are up to?"

Much to my chagrin, I know she's right. I'll be getting unrestricted access to the Lodge family, something I doubt even Betty Cooper could manage, at least not yet.

I'm not sure what I expected before I walked into Veronica's penthouse, but a sleepy eyed butler definitely wasn't high on the list. Despite the laundry list of legal problems that the Lodge family was living through, they still managed to employ a butler. Damn.

"Evening, Ms. Lodge," the tuxedo clad man says, still ready to serve even late in the evening.

So much for sneaking around.

"Good evening, Smithers," she says with a coy smile.

"I did not prepare for a guest," he informs her. Not to scold, but simply to bring to her attention. It's a weird interaction.

"That's okay," Veronica says, her voice as sweet as a song. "I'm sure Jughead will be fine with the guest room as it is."

I say nothing during all of this. What can I say to a Manhattan socialite and her butler that would make this whole thing any less insane?

"I can show you to your room then, Mr. ... Jughead is it?" Smithers says as he eyes me up and down.

"The third," I tell him, and Veronica is the only one to crack a smile.

"I can show him," Veronica says, her smile never fading. The butler is protective of her, that much as clear. The rich have plenty of people to be protective of them, even over those who have lost their wealth. Not that one would guess that of the Lodges, not with the vaulted ceilings, designer furniture, and expensive art that fills their Riverdale home.

"This way, Juggy," Veronica coos at me as she leads me deeper into her home. She breezes through her domain, light as a feather and yet below the surface I know she has the capacity to be as vicious as a cobra. Here though, in her gilded cage, she is content and smiling as she gives me a tour.

"This is the main bathroom," she says, guiding me through like we're in a retro episode of MTV's Cribs. "And the sitting room is over there," she tells me with a point of her perfectly manicured finger. "Through here," she tells me as we push through a galley door, "is the kitchen. "Grab whatever you want from the fridge, whenever."

If I weren't paying attention, I'd be quick to judge her offer as charity. But that isn't Veronica. Though not from the most humble of beginnings - not even close - she's nothing if not genuine. Her offer is strictly a mix of kindness and the markings of a good hostess. Nothing more.

Her voice lowers as we work our way down the hall. "This is my room," she says as she points at a closed door. "At the end of the hall is my mom. And this," she says as she opens a third door, "is your suite."

I'm not sure what I was expecting when Veronica opened her home to me. A couch would have been plenty enough space for me, and in a home like this, probably more comfortable than any bed I'd ever known. But when that door opens, I go from some apprehension over my acceptance of her offer, to powerful regret.

"Veronica, I can't sleep here," I tell her.

She pouts. "Why?"

I don't know how to put it into words. There is nothing inherently wrong with the room. Nothing offensive, nothing startling, nothing obtrusive. It's simply...

"It's too much," I tell her. That is exactly the answer. The room itself is elegantly, yet simply designed. White furniture, grey bedding, fancy pillows, authentic art on the walls. Despite the simplicity, or perhaps because of it, the room screamed luxury.

"Oh Juggy," she says with a soft laugh of reassurance. "It's just the right amount. Now stop complaining and get in there! I want you rested and ready for tomorrow."

"I thought we were coming back here to find out what your mother is up to," I tell her. Not that I'm not tired. I haven't had a cup of coffee in hours and my caffeine levels are dangerously low.

"Tomorrow," she tells me. "After school. My mom works afternoons at Archie's dad's place now. We'll have a couple hours to tear this place apart."

"Right," I say as I eye her suspiciously. Her easy, relaxed charm covers up all manner of sins. "And what about Lurch out there?"

"Smithers?" she laughs. "I'll take care of him, don't worry. Now," she says as she straightens my collar. "Sleep. It keeps the mind sharp."

Without giving me another chance to protest, Veronica disappears down the hall and into her own private room. For the first time, I'm alone in her home and what is - temporarily - my room. My plush, luxurious room.

I can feel my lip curl up at the idea of sleeping in a place like this. I've known couches, benches, cots, the old single bed that Jellybean would crawl her way into after a nightmare, and everything else in between. But a king sized bed? That's a new one for me.

As habit dictates, I rest my pack on the foot of my bed. There's a walk-in closet open and inviting, but I don't plan on staying long enough to need to unpack. Besides, what I have in my backpack would fill maybe a tenth of the space of that closet. Not worth my time.

Reluctantly, I sit down on the bed. It's not as plush as I imagined, but in a good way. There's enough give that I can bounce in place easily, but I can tell that it's got the kind of firm support that I've only heard about in commercials.

Kicking off my shoes, I let myself fall backward onto the bed. In spite of myself, I smile as the soft, pillowy duvet envelops me in warm comfort. The bedding carries the soft smell of lavender that wafts around the room as I curl up in the bed, not even bothering to pull off my clothes.

"Betty is going to flip when she hears about this," I laugh to myself. The thought that Betty is the one I want to tell about this comes as a surprise to me, but I'm too tired to read too much into it. It's a product of my overtired and overwired brain.

My body doesn't give me the chance to think about that, or anything, for very long. Before I know it, the morning sun is coming in through the window and someone is knocking at my door.

For a heartbeat, the panic of not knowing where I am hits me, but quickly dissipates when I look around the room. Veronica's house, in her spare room, plush bedding all around me. At some time in the night, I've pulled off my jacket, shirt, and pants, leaving only my boxers behind so that I can enjoy the softness of the overindulgent bed.

"Juggy!" she calls, her voice not as pleasant as it was the night before, but not angry either. "Get up!"

"I'm up," I call back as I pull back the covers and sit up. "I'm up!"

"Good," she says as the door flies open right as I stand up.

Her shock is as evident as my own when she enters the room. In unthinking reflex, I grasp around the bed for my discarded clothing, and Veronica is stopped dead in her tracks. It's a hilarious tableau, or would be to anyone watching. For me, it's not exactly funny.

Veronica's silence lasts only a second before she's back to her shrewd, collected self. "We're going to be late for school," she tells me as she flips her hair. Despite the early hour, she's perfectly polished, manicured, and done up. I wonder how early she had to get up to be that put together, but toy with the idea that she never isn't that put together. "Do you remember where the bathroom is?"

"Um, yeah," I grumble as I pull up the duvet to cover myself.

"Good," she says as she looks me over. Not to be judgemental, but in that teasing, ever flirting way that she does with everyone. It's not reserved for anyone, not even Archie Andrews, despite how I'm certain she feels for him. "Make sure you put something on before you head down the hall. You don't want to give Smithers a shock."

I roll my eyes as she leaves the room and pull on a t-shirt and jeans once I'm alone. Veronica as a roommate is so far going pretty much along the lines of what I expected, but I'm not as annoyed as I expected to be. If anything, it's a nice change of pace from what I'm used to.

After a hot shower that I let go long enough that Veronica starts pounding on the door, I get myself dressed in the cleanest thing in my pack. The rest of my things I stuff back in my bag and sling over my shoulder before I emerge from the bathroom.

"Are you bringing that with you?" Veronica asks. She's taller now, having slipped on a pair of what I have to assume are designer heels.

"Yeah," I tell her.

"Don't," she says, her tone flippant and light. "Just leave it here. You're staying for a while, right? So act like it."

She doesn't give me a chance to argue. That's not Veronica Lodge's style. She has a way of bulldozing over people without them even realizing it's happening. Between her beauty, elegance, and charm, it's easy to ignore the fact that she's cunning and fierce as hell. All qualities I have to admit I admire.

Walking into Riverdale High is a different experience when you enter with Veronica Lodge. I tried to walk ahead of her, to go faster to not have the whole school see us walk in together, but the girl can book it in those heels. All heads turn as she walks in beside me, and I can imagine the whispers already.

"Juggy, Veronica, hey," Betty's voice stops me and I turn to face her. Suddenly the skin under my neck is a little warmer than I remember as I catch her pretty blue eyes. After a night with Veronica - well, not with Veronica - it's nice to see Betty.

There's a touch of confusion on her face as her eyes glance between me and Veronica. Us showing up at school together doesn't necessarily mean anything, but Betty is smarter than most and has a detective's mind. If anyone is going to wonder if something is up, it's her.

Betty isn't the only one examining the situation. Veronica's eyes glance back and forth and devilish smile tugs at her painted lips. "Hey Betty, did Jughead tell you?" Veronica purrs. "He's my new roommate!"

"Juggy?" Betty asks, confused but not mad.

"Just for a little while," I admit, careful to keep my voice low. "After we saw Veronica's mother, she asked if I could help her find out just what she's up too."

Betty's face lightens some. "Oh, good idea," she says with a nod and her ponytail bounces. "If she's hanging around with the Serpents, we need to know why." She looks at Veronica and adds, "Just to make sure she's okay, of course."

"Oh Betty," Veronica tisks. "I love my mother, but we all know that's not the only reason. Now come on, Juggy," she adds, using the pet name Betty uses for me, "we'll be late for English."

It isn't until we reach the classroom door that Veronica pulls me aside before I can enter.

"What was that about?" she asks me, her big brown eyes blinking at me.

"What was what about?" I squirm.

"You and Betty!" she whispers at me. "And don't deny it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say, and this time I'm the one doing the bulldozing. Before she can roll me over, I pull away and march into class. She's brazen enough to call me out during class, but I don't think she will. She's got a nose for dirt, and I hate knowing she'll get it out of me eventually. Hell, even I'm not sure what she'll get out of me, or what it is I'm hiding.

Thankfully, Veronica leaves me be for the day. Well, verbally at least. She keeps giving me looks that silently tell me, 'I'm on to you,' and it makes me squirm every time I catch her eye. The worst part is, I'm not even sure what she's on to. If anything, I want to ask her to spell it out just to avoid this game of cat and mouse she wants to play.

As school lets out and our schoolmates make their way to their respectives cars and busses, I find myself walking alone out of the school. It's my first true moment of quiet in the entire day and I relish in it. The time alone with my thoughts, the quiet, the peace.

"Juggy," Veronica sings to me. Trailing behind her are Archie and Betty, who are busy talking to each other. "You didn't forget our date, did you?"

My mind blanks. 'Date?' I think, and worry who else heard her, but then I remember what she really means. We don't have a 'date', what we do have is a need to get back to her place before Hermione Lodge returns from her day job working for Archie's father. Knowing my own father, if Hermione was working with him, it wouldn't be long before things got very bad for the Lodge's.

"Right," I tell her as I shoot a glance back at Betty and Archie. They don't appear to have heard anything Veronica has said, which gives me a sense of relief and a pang of jealousy at the same time.

Without much fanfare, Veronica and I make our way across the football field and toward her place. I can't deny that getting a better look at what is hidden inside one of the many places the Lodge's call home - down one or two since Hiram found himself in prison - is a tempting mistress. Just what secrets is someone with their fingers is so many pies up to?

Veronica is talking about some fake designer bag when we get back to her place. I'm only half paying attention to her when we walk in the door and I drop my backpack inside the entry like I used to do before my family fell apart. It's only when I look up that I notice Veronica appears ill at ease as she looks around.

"Smithers?" she asks. Apparently the fact that he isn't there to greet her is cause for alarm.

"He's probably mopping a floor or dusting a doily or something," I say.

"No, he's always here when I get home," Veronica says. Concern grows on her face. "Smithers?" she calls again as we walk further into the lush home.

"We're in the kitchen!" a woman's voice calls back. "I got off work early, I've got a dinner meeting to attend with Fred."

Veronica shoots me a look of panic, and then quickly kills it. We are not alone, Veronica's mother is not where she is supposed to be. Our plans for the night are sufficiently killed.

"Sorry to concern you, Miss Veronica," Smithers says as he enters the room, Hermione behind him. "Ah, and Mr. Jughead, good to see you again."

Hermione's eyes narrow as she glances between me and her daughter. I've seen the woman in passing - at the drive in, at Jason's memorial. She's the epitome of elegance and class, a carefully crafted appearance, but something tells me that if I were to cross her in any way, she wouldn't be afraid to pull out the big guns.

"Hello," Hermione says and extends her hand to shake my own. "Sorry, Jughead was it?"

"The third," I offer back when I shake her hand. No sense telling her I'm a Jones, not with what she has going on with my father, whatever that is. Not if I don't want to find myself forcibly removed from her house.

"Are you and my daughter...?" she begins, and Veronica let's out a laugh. Ouch.

"No," she says. "To be honest, Juggy here is having a little trouble at home," she tells her, which is the truth. Not the whole truth, but some of it. "I thought maybe he could stay in the spare room for a night or two while he gets it figured out."

"Mija," Hermione sighs, obviously not on board with this idea.

"Please mom?" Veronica begs with big, beautiful puppy dog eyes. "And it's not like we'll be alone. Smithers is here."

Still not impressed, Hermione goes to say something else, but Veronica stops her.

"And Betty is coming over for a sleepover," Veronica adds. "She just had to run home for a few things after school."

Now I'm the one looking confused. Betty is coming over? Since when?

"Fine," Hermione relents. "But only for a couple of nights. Now, Smithers and I were busy planning your dinner, but I guess we'll add enough for two more."

Thankfully, she and Smithers retreat back to kitchen, finally leaving Veronica alone. It isn't until the galley door swings closed that I look at Veronica and whisper, "You didn't invite Betty over."

"Not yet," she says with a devious chuckle. "But she won't say no." Noticing my frustration, she adds, "Oh come on Juggy, it'll be fun. Besides, you'll get to see Betty Cooper in her pj's."

With a playful, frustratingly coy wink, she walks away from me and pulls out her phone. I should have known what I was getting into with Veronica, and curse myself for not expecting it. Having to deal with both Betty and Veronica all night, with what I'm not even sure what I'm feeling?

It's a recipe for a disaster.


End file.
